


Friday's Peonies

by hale



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 11:36:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17344562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hale/pseuds/hale
Summary: Five times Draco didn't say I love you.





	Friday's Peonies

**i.  
**When Hermione and Draco become _Hermione and Draco_ , she insists that he has to play nice with her friends. His first choice for what to do on the third Friday of every month may never be a guy's night with Harry, Ron, and Neville, but still.

He kisses her lips. He slips on his shoes. He's out the door and he's on his way.

  
**ii.**  
She walks through their front door to happy cheers, confetti, and the glowing faces of all of her friends. She's hugging and she's laughing and she's drinking and she thinks 'this is the best birthday I've ever had.'  
  
She meets his eyes.  
  
And she knows.

  
**iii.**  
After the war, everyone's trauma manifested itself in different ways. She associates gloomy weather with the day of the Final Battle. So when it rains for days on end in the middle of August that year, she retreats into herself and no one can get through.  
  
When she walks into her work office one morning, two dozen vibrant, pink peonies - her favorite - and a note are waiting there to greet her.  
  
' _Brighter days are coming._  
_\- D_ '

Even if it's just for that moment, she believes him.

  
**iv.**  
They're laying on the couch watching a muggle show when Hermione passively says, "I wish growing up didn't mean seeing your friends half as often." And while she means it, she promptly forgets that she ever said it.  
  
She comes home to an empty house a couple Fridays later and wonders where Draco is, but then three dozen pizzas arrive. She doesn't have time to process why there is so much before they start showing up one by one: Ginny. Then Luna. Pansy. Lavender.  
  
She asks how. She asks why. She asks when. They just smile, like she doesn't already know.

  
**v.**  
It's been five years. It hasn't always been easy, but they've made it. Their bodies are sweaty and tangled together and they're both spent but happy. They're so happy.

"I love you," she whispers.

He presses his lips against her wild curls to make sure that she knows.

 

**+**

It's not that he's never said it and it's not that he can't. It just wasn't how he was raised and it took her some time to come around, but she accepts that it is what it is - accepts him for who he is.

But they're standing in the kitchen on a Sunday morning in early March as the sun begins to rise and shadows are dancing across the counter tops. It's far too early and she's so tired. With sleepy eyes, wild bed head, and a shirt of his that hangs off of her limbs carelessly, he's watching her closely from across the kitchen as she makes their tea. When she notices, she tilts her head at him as if to say 'what?' And when he speaks, it's so soft that if you weren't listening, you wouldn't have heard it.

"I love you."

But she's always listening, so she just smiles.

She already knows.

**Author's Note:**

> It's a quick one, but if I don't post something, I won't post anything. I hope you enjoy.


End file.
